When, in the year 1913, in my desperate attempt to free art from the ballast of objectivity, I took refuge in the square form and exhibited a picture which consisted of nothing more than a black square on a white field. The critics and, along with them, the public sighed, "Everything which we loved was lost. We are in a desert...Before us is nothing but a black square on a white background! But the desert is filled with the spirit of non-objective feeling..."